We Made It
by TheRedhood908
Summary: John Marston has all but abandoned his family. Who is around to pick up the slack? One Arthur Morgan. But little does he know that this is what he has been waiting for, even if he didn't know it. A second chance.


This was wrong. He knew it was and he was pretty sure she knew it too but..it felt too right. Sometimes that's how it goes. The hardest things, the best decisions, are all shunted to the side in favor of what felt right. Human emotions. Evelyn Miller would write that they were the one thing that made true civilizational utopia impossible. The constant and ever present influence of the whim of human desire on historical events.

For Arthur Morgan and Abigail Roberts this had become the truest statement of their lives without them even knowing who Evelyn Miller was. Philosophy didn't matter to either of them. Life did, and especially one life that would draw them together. That of little Jack Marston.

It had all started on that sunny day at Horseshoe Overlook. Arthur was standing besides a trees, smoking a cigarette as his mind drifted. Back past the Grizzlies to Colter where Davey Callander and further out Jenny Kirk lay in their graves. What were they doing? What did any of this mean anymore? These doubts felt foreign to the usually confident and trusting man but Dutch, well, he seemed different. More prone to taking risks and that incident with that girl on the ferry? The one recurring thought was that it all led back to Micah Bell.

Things had changed. That turning point was inextricably linked to the blonde outlaw with a reckless demeanor and an all around disagreeable attitude. But what could he do about it? Hosea was even being shunted to the side, his advice being taken less and less. When Arthur and Hosea had brought Dutch word of a mine to the west of Blackwater that was supposedly brimming with gold, a sample of which had been shown to them by a drunken miner, he had brushed it off without a word, going instead for Micah and his scheme involving a ferry that might have some poker winnings aboard. Arthur had been shocked at the time. Gold. Gold ingots. Worth more than any amount of paper money found on that boat. And to top it all off so much harder to trace and all the easier to unload. Who would turn down gold? Hell who would even ask where it came from?

There was also the risk factor. The mine wasn't even guarded after dark, for fear of attracting attention. There would have been no need for violence. The gold was already mined in carts, not guarded and basically addressed to the Van Der Linde gang with a bow and ribbon.

No. Dutch instead opted for the heavily guarded ferry which would be all the more difficult to rob for being in the middle of a lake, and only offered the explanation of "Trust me" as he normally does these days.

Arthur grunts, deciding to not think too much on it. After all, Dutch had been good to them and had led them this far without too much damage. He knew, just knew, that without Dutch's leadership there would be more graves than just Jenny and Davey, and more missing than Mac and Sean.

Sean. The name sent another cascade of thoughts tumbling down the rockface of Arthur Morgan's brain. The annoying Irishmen he considered to be a brother but would die before actually telling the man so. His lack of presence was certainly felt within the gang.

Before Arthur can continue brooding he hears footsteps impacting the gravel behind him and turns to see Abigail walking towards him. He smiles, lightly of course but smiles nonetheless. "Ms. Roberts" he says cheerfully, glad for the distraction. "Mr. Morgan," she replies, far more warmth and care in her voice and smile than was in his. It's then that her smile lightly drops, her mouth openly as she goes to say something before nervously closing once more. Arthur sighs, already seeing where this is going.

"Alright, what is it you want me to do now Abigail?" He asks, rather tired of being the camp errand boy. It was one thing for Dutch to constantly send him hither and thither but it was getting rather annoying that the rest of the gang began to treat him the same way. Hell even Kieran, the O'Driscoll had asked him to find oleander for the horses. For the life of him Arthur couldn't tell you why he did so but he actually got the little bastard the plants. He smirked to himself at the thought that at least if he left the gang he'd have a good chance at getting a job delivering telegrams and what not. At least the pay might be better.

Abigail at least has the sense to look a little ashamed but nevertheless she presses on. "Well it's Jack, Arthur. It's just….well…" she begins, stopping as she doesn't quite know how to say it. Arthur remains silent and let her go on. Abigail was many things but a bad mother was normally not one of them. "He's so sullen and sad. He just ain't himself. I was wondering if maybe...well if maybe you could take him to do something?" She asks, hope in her voice.

Arthur just blinks in response, a little shocked but nonetheless seeing it as inevitable. After all, who else could she trust with Jack? John, well him and her were rarely ever on the same page. Bill was a bumbling idiot, Javier a prima donna and Micah? Well lets just say Arthur would rather have left Jack in the care of the wolves that attacked the elder Marston than with Micah. The result? Arthur knew he was the only one Abigail could trust. Well, Hosea too. Or Lenny or Charles but to be fair each had their own problems that prohibited them from babysitting. Hosea's old age, Lenny's youth and inexperience and Charles and his mysticism and aloofness. All in all it made sense that Abigail would ask him before all the others.

Still, it does rankle him a bit. Not being asked to take care of Jack. Not that part. Just the fact that his own father couldn't be bothered.

"Why can't John take him to do something? He ain't been out looking for leads? Just nursing that wound of his. Surely the prize pony is well rested by now" Arthur draws out teasingly. He expects Abigail to rebuke him. Get angry at the insult hurled at the man many considered her "husband". But instead she sighs and looks down, ashamed on John's behalf. "Maybe...well you're right but it's just well….I'm sorry Arthur I shouldn't have asked you. It's not your place" she says turning to make off, but is stopped, Arthur's hand on her shoulder. She turns just in time to see him rub the bridge of his nose and sigh.

"Ahh well you know I didn't mean it like that. Maybe I'll just take Jack fishing or, better yet maybe into town. I know a few places he might like" he says, not really knowing how to entertain a kid. Abigail quickly lights up and her smile almost splits her face. She throws herself at the man and wraps her arms around his shoulders, her face nuzzled into his neck. The man's arms go wide, splayed out to either side of himself and he stands puzzled. "Ohh thank you so much Arthur. Thank you" she says, on the verge of tears before kissing his cheek.

The awkward man simply patted her back and gently removed her arms from him. "Well, it's not a problem. Let me go find him. See what he wants to do" he says before walking off, trying to brush off the strange feelings that Abigail Roberts had just sparked in him. She smiles after him, gently wiping away a tear with her handkerchief before heading back to work on the clothes she had brought with her, having deposited them on the ground before talking with Arthur.

Arthur had prepared himself for a bit of a search for Jack. After all, the kid was a kid. Rambunctious and curious as any young man was want to be but exacerbated by the boredom of camp life.

As it turned out though, Jack was easy to find. He was sitting outside the family tent, playing with two sticks. Arthur hadn't seen much of Jack back in Colter. After all he was too busy trying to keep himself and the others alive to really notice much else. But now he could see the toll that this life was taking on Jack. He looked sadder than a kicked puppy and for some odd reason he got the feeling that John Marston was behind it somehow.

"Hey there Jack. What are you up to?" Arthur asked, sinking down onto a squatting position to put him more on an equal level with the young boy.

Jack looks up and smiles slightly, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He was sullen. Quiet. Not normal for Jack. "Hi Uncle Arthur. Nothing. Just playing" he says simply his eyes wandering back to the two sticks.

"Playing huh? Anything interesting going on with that imagination of yours?" Arthur asked trying to draw the boy into conversation. "Not really" the boy said in response. Arthur just sighs and stands up, making the boy think he was ready to walk away. "Ahh well. If it's too interesting I won't bother you. I just had a well….a secret mission in town I thought you could help me with" he says with a smirk as he turns his back to walk away. "But if you're too busy I wouldn't wanna annoy you with it" he adds to which he hears a scuffle as the young boy rushes to his feet. "I'm not busy! I wanna help uncle Arthur!" He shouts, rushing up and grasping the man's arm. Arthur looks down amused and smiles, tousling the boy's hair. "Well alright then. Come along. We gotta mount Domitia and get going then. Dutch would want us to get it done as soon as possible. 'Bout time you started to earn your keep boy" he says and puts his arm around the young boy's shoulders.

Jack just smiles and laughs, eager and happy to finally feel involved. "Alright uncle Arthur. I'll do my best" he says and Arthur can't help but smile a little wider. "I know you will Jack. You're a cowboy aintcha?" He asks as they finally get to the Dutch Warmblood that Arthur had picked up after the death of Boadicea. Domitia was a stubborn horse but Arthur was grateful that she wasn't too stubborn as to buck him off like the Count had. They'd get used to each other. Eventually.

On their way to the hitching post they ran into Abigail who was now carrying the washed and dried clothes. "Momma! Momma! Uncle Arthur and I have a secret mission in town" he shouts, hugging his mother's legs happily. "A secret mission? Why aren't you a little young for secret missions?" She asks teasingly, quirking an eyebrow at the bearded man following behind the young boy. "No" he adds defensively, looking up at his mother. "Uncle Arthur said he needed my help. He can't do it alone" he says proudly, happy at being asked by his uncle Arthur on this "mission". Abigail just smiles and looks at Arthur, shear happiness on her face for the first time in months. "This true Arthur? You need my boy to help?" She asks teasingly rubbing the child's head.

Arthur smiles back and nods, taking his hat off. "Of course. I can't do it without him. This uhh...mission" he says having forgotten the word he used for it, "is perfectly suited for young Jack here. Make us a lot of money. Hell it might even make us Kings and Queens and it'll all be thanks to little Jack here" he says making the young boy beam up at his mother. "You see mama? I'm gonna help everyone" he says to which Abigail seems about to cry again. Her boy was completely changed and his mood had done a complete turn around.

"Ohh alright Jack. You make me so proud" she says, leaning down and kissing her son's forehead. "Go have fun sweetie" she says causing the young boy to frown. "It's not fun momma. It's a mission. It's important" he says causing his mother to giggle. Arthur Morgan found himself thinking that it was a rather endearing sound.

"Alright then well let me not me keep you and uncle Arthur from your mission but...you be safe and you listen to Arthur alright Jack?" She asks and the boy emphatically nods.

"Alright" she says, picking up the clothes once more and moving towards the center of camp. She smiles once more at Arthur and mouths the words "thank you" prompting the man to nod and walk towards his horse. "Alright Jack, I'll mount up first and then I'll lift you up into the saddle. That sound good?" He asks to which Jack nods.

"Alright then" Arthur says, pushing himself up into the saddle and then reaching down for Jack, grasping the boy easily and hoisting him up, placing him at the forefront of the saddle. "Alright then Jack. First part of the mission is up to you. We could go fishing? As a cover for what we're really doing" he says, quickly covering up the fact that there wasn't a "mission" per say. The suggestion is met with a groan from the young man who obviously disliked fishing. Arthur just lets out a little chuckle. "Alright then. No fishing. How about this? We head into town and see what we can rustle up. After all our secret mission is uhh...what do you call it? Ahh I don't know the word but we gotta keep our eyes and ears open in town. You hear Jack?" He asks to which the young boy responds much more enthusiastically.

"Yes uncle Arthur. It sounds like fun, I mean it sounds important but also a little fun" he says admittedly as his eyes search everywhere, the road into town even holding a bit of charm for the boy who hadn't seen past the makeshift canvas of their camp. It was a rather somber moment for Arthur as he really had to think of what Jack's life had been up to this point. One thing was for sure, it wasn't a life that a kid should have.

Valentine came all too soon, or perhaps not soon enough in Jack's case as he began to fidget in the saddle. "You excited Jack?" asked Arthur as he pulled Domitia to a stop outside of the picture show tent. "Yeah uncle Arthur" Jack almost shouts as Arthur lowers him to the ground and then himself steps down. Domitia is quickly hitched to a post and Jack, looks around, the activity and bustle unknown to him.

"Alright Jack. Let's get to it" he says as he puts his arm around Jack and leads him into the picture show, purchasing two tickets at the booth. "What are we doing uncle Arthur?" Jack whispers before taking his seat. "Well we're watching this show here to see if there...well if there is any clues" he says, finding a quick way to continue to charade. "Dutch wants you to watch the show and see if they tell you where any treasure is, and uhh while you watch, I'll uhh well see about scooping out the place. Sound good?" He asks receiving enthusiastic support as Jack settles into his chair, the show starts.

It was...interesting. Something about a bear listening to the wind and hibernating? Jack enjoyed it, though Arthur doubted that he did because of anything other than the newness of it. Well as long as he enjoyed it.

When it was over Jack leaned in conspiratorially to Arthur outside and said "I don't think there was anything secret in there uncle Arthur. Maybe...maybe the treasure is in a cave? The bear was in a cave. Did that help?"

"It sure did Jack. I'll head out and go check out the cave later. You've been a huge help. Now though, time to pay you for your work. Everytime we do a job you get a cut of what you bring in" he says as he fishes out a ten dollar bill. Sure it was a lot of money but it was easily made for Arthur. Besides, it was Strauss' loan money. He'd just dock his own cut not really wanting anything to do with the blood money as it was.

"Here you go Jack" he says, handing the boy the ten. It was probably more than he'd ever seen in his four years of life. "Wow really uncle Arthur? We must've made a lot of money then" he says, lost in his imagination and happiness in helping. Arthur just smiled back down at him and tousled his hair again. "Alright buddy. Anything you wanna do while we're in town?" He asks to which Jack looks around and points at the general store. "Do you think they'll have any books in there uncle Arthur?" he asks.

It was to be expected really. Jack was crazy for books. It wouldn't hurt. He'd lost the ones he had back in Blackwater when they'd abandoned the camp and in Colter it became clear that Jack without books is like a bird without a chirp.

"Well I suppose there ain't no harm in looking" he says, leading the boy along the street, making sure to keep him out of sight of the saloon and the dubious pleasures to be found within. It was a shame. John wasn't here to be doing this with his son and Jack, well he didn't even know about how his father was failing him. Maybe it was better that way. To not realize what you were missing out on.

They finally get to the general store and enter, the aromas and sights once more proving a draw for Jack. "Hey mister. You got any novels in here?" Arthur asks the owner who nods and points, almost disinterestedly at a shelf towards the back. "Got a few in. Welcome to take a look" he says and Arthur nods, guiding the young boy over towards the shelf.

"Well Jack. You see any you like just let me know and I'll ring 'em up for you" he says to which Jack looks at him askance. "But I have money uncle Arthur?" He asks, confusedly. "Yeah, to save it up. Maybe after you get more and more you'll save a good amount. Buy something real nice for your mother" he says and Jack nods, deciding that he liked two books in the meantime. One was a civil war novel, surprisingly enough and the other a western, predictable. "Thank you Uncle Arthur" he says before hugging the man's legs. "Ahh sure".

The money is placed down on the counter, the owner taking it quickly before handing the books off to Jack. "Here you are young man. Please, come again" he says, Jack and Arthur exiting the shop.

Arthur was relieved. No comment about the fight he'd been involved in in town.

"What now uncle Arthur? I'm a little tired" he says, yawning. The sky had darkened a bit, a storm moving in from the East as it began to even smell of rain. "Well maybe it's best we get back to camp huh? I'm sure your momma is missing you already. Worried as she is about your mission and all" he says as they walked towards the stables where someone had moved Domitia to for them.

Without much more effort they're off, heading back towards Horseshoe Overlook, slowly of course. Arthur would never hear the end of it if he went too fast and Jack fell. Hell he'd never hear the end of it from his own conscience let alone Abigail Roberts.

"Who goes there?!" Comes an angry voice from the trees. "It's me. Arthur and Jack coming in" he responds, telling the posted guard, this time being Bill Williamson, who it was. "Ahh you have fun Jack?" He asks, Arthur pulling on the reins and bringing Domitia to a trot and then a stop so Bill could talk to Jack. "Yeah uncle Bill. Uncle Arthur and I went on a mission, except I don't think I was supposed to tell you" he says, thinking he had made a mistake. Arthur just laughed it off as Bill looks at the two of them. "That's no good. Your momma won't be happy to hear that" he says until Arthur interjects.

"Ahh it was important though. Had him watch a picture show and look for "clues" in the show. We found out that there might be gold in some cave" he says, emphasizing certain words to let Bill in on the fact that he had just taken Jack out for some fun instead of an important mission.

Bill misses the cues however and just continues to look askance at Arthur and Jack. "What do you mean? What cave? How much gold?"

Arthur wanted to slap his hand against his face. Bill wasn't stupid. Gullible yes, but not stupid. Or so he had to remind himself every time. "Don't worry Bill. Just go into town and see the picture show yourself. It'll make sense then" Arthur says, passing off the problem to someone else. No doubt Bill would go off and be searching every cave he could find now. It was almost comical. Well, maybe he would find something.

"Does uncle Bill get money too uncle Arthur if he's going to help?" comes Jack's innocent voice and question. "Ahh well nah. Bill can handle his own money Jack. He's a good earner" he says, again looking up at the sky and waiting for it to open up. "Best get you to your tent little feller. Before you get your books all wet" Arthur says, prompting the young boy to hold the two novels close to himself in worry. Arthur just smiles and helps him off the horse, jumping down himself after making sure that Domitia would be out of the rain under the trees.

"I bet your momma is back at your tent. We should go check on her huh? See if the chores she was working on are done" he says, setting off for the northernmost side of camp.

He keeps the boy close, knowing that he has a fear of thunder and lightning. They'd learned that back east a few years back. It was a more shameful event in the Marston family history. He'd been scared, woken up by the thunder. Naturally he did what any young boy did when he was scared. He woke up his mother and asked if he could sleep with her. John, naturally deciding to be a big man, vetoed the idea and sent the scared little boy back to bed. No matter how much Abigail pleaded and shouted, audible over even the sound of the thunder, he wouldn't budge leading to a scared Jack rushing out to his uncle Arthur and waking him up.

Arthur had just leaned up in his camp bed and seen the boy, soaking wet, crying and all around looking horrible. When he was finally able to piece the story together from young Jack he was livid. There wasn't anything he could do at that moment. Hell he wouldn't even be able to talk to John about it considering his position as show pony in the gang. So he just sighed, smiled, got a towel and let a drier Jack sleep in his camp bed with him sitting next to it on a chair.

He doubted Jack remembered it but it always seemed from then on that no matter the problem, he came to his uncle Arthur. He didn't mind, not really. He would never turn away Jack. He was basically everyone's son in this camp but the fact was that he shouldn't be the one to father the boy. Hell he was one of the few men who didn't have sex with Abigail in her….dubious past. He knew he wasn't the father. But he couldn't fix it. Nobody on Earth could make a man want to be better but that man themselves and John? Well as time went on he became more and more interested in whoring and drinking. Arthur had tried to talk to him about it. While they were when they were rustling sheep, a strange time to talk about morality.

He had told him that he shouldn't try and be two things at once. John just fired back at him about his relationship with Mary, as if neglecting your son was the same thing as not being able to make it work with a woman. Arthur had just sighed and let the rest of the trip pass with silence. There wasn't anything to talk with John about apparently. He had left John to meet with Dutch in town alone, heading back to camp. He really was not in the mood to watch Dutch fawn over the scarred man as he had been doing lately.

Micah Bell and John Marston. They were the new guard, replacing Arthur and Hosea in Dutch's esteem. Sure he'd listen to them, clap them on the back and joke with them, but it was clear that the winds had shifted. Arthur and Hosea's time were done, and that was a bad thing for the gang. Not that anybody noticed. Too absorbed in their own world he supposed.

"Hiya Arthur. Jackie boy, how are you sweets?" Asks Molly having exited Dutch's tent and running smack dab into the two. "Hello Aunt Molly. I am okay" he says, always being shy around the Irishwoman. It was strange how gentle and sweet the usually surly redhead was to Jack. Well she was polite to Arthur too but it was always heartwarming to see her with Jack. She smiles and runs her hand through his hair. "And what were you two boys up to? Dutch send you out?" She asks curiously and Jack looks up at Arthur with a smile before nervously turning back to Molly.

"Well we were doing something but I think I told too many people. It's a secret" he says, proud at himself for finally holding his tongue...in a manner of speaking.

"Ohh? Secrets now Arthur?" She asks, quirking a critical eye at the outlaw. Arthur just laughs. "It's alright Jack. You can tell aunt Molly. She's gonna find out anyhow" he says causing the woman, now having moved onto her knees to be on the same level with the young boy. "Well, uncle Arthur and I are looking for treasure. We saw a picture show with a bear and a cave and I think there might be gold in it. I accidentally told uncle Bill too. But then uncle Arthur gave me ten whole dollars for helping him and he bought me two books" he says, showing the woman the two paperbacks he was cradling in his arms.

"Ohh. That must be why Bill Williamson rushed off in such a hurry" she says to Arthur while taking the books in her hand to see. "Ahh well that was very nice of uncle Arthur. The big bad gunman" she says with a smirk before handing the books back to Jack. "Well you should get to your tent sweetie. The sky is going to start crying soon" she says as she kisses the young boy's forehead and stands up, smoothing her skirts out again. "Have to check on Dutch. Seems to be spending a good amount of time over by the treeline. Any idea why Arthur?" She asks with searching eyes.

Now if Arthur had to tell the truth he would say yes, he did have an inkling of what Dutch was doing. Especially with how he had been hanging around Mary-Beth. But he didn't know for sure and that's the only thing that saved him from being a "liar". Not that he didn't know from firsthand experience how Dutch was with women. Well visual experience. He wasn't sure if that counted as firsthand.

"Nah, I'm sorry Molly. Not sure. Ask Micah and John. They're more in the loop nowadays" he says, the anger unintentionally seeping into his voice. Molly instantly senses this and her hand moves to his shoulder, comfortingly. She doesn't say anything, just a reassuring squeeze before she moves off. It wasn't a much seen aspect of Molly O'Shea but she was a caring, if lazy and snooty woman.

"Uncle Arthur? Can we find mommy?" Jack asks, tugging on Arthur's sleeve. "Sure. Let's go. I think I see her right there" he says, indeed watching as the woman paces in front of her tent. "Mommy" Jack shouts, rushing towards the woman and rocketing into her arms, nuzzling into her waist. Jack was a momma's boy. But then again, how couldn't he be? She was all he really had. Sure he had the rest of them but how much could you really trust outlaws?

"Ohh you're back. I got worried when I saw the storm coming but I knew uncle Arthur would get you back safe" she says hugging him close. Arthur just nods, stopping right behind the boy and watching.

Jack's mouth begins running instantly. How much fun he had watching the show and buying the books, although he insisted that it was important and not just fun. He even dropped his books onto his blanket to show her the ten dollar bill he had.

"It just sounds like you had a grand old time" she says, ecstatic about how animated her little boy had become. A complete change from how he had been the past few weeks. She hugs him close and looks up at Arthur and for some odd reason he felt uncomfortable again. She wasn't supposed to look at him like that.

Her mouth opens a few times but she stops every time until Arthur just shook his head and said "I know" simply. He makes to turn away, heading off to his own tent for a good night's sleep. "Wait uncle Arthur" comes Jack's voice as he grabs Arthur's sleeve. "Yeah Jack?"

"Can you stay and read the book with me and mommy?" He asks cutely. He wants to say no. After all it really wouldn't look good. A man with another man's woman, if Abigail was John's woman, and his child reading? He knew tongues would wag. But there was something in Jack's eyes and then even in Abigail's.

"Sure" he says, the sky opening up as soon as he sets foot into the tent. He was glad to be out of the rain but he didn't know if maybe he'd walked into a more awkward situation than getting wet. Jack is ecstatic, his two favorite people both deciding to read with him at the same time. Arthur takes off his boots, coat and hat, not wanting to get the tent anymore dirty than it is. Jack lit up a small lamp, illuminating the confines of the tent. Abigail sits down on the blankets and gently gathers up her skirts, setting Jack down besides her with his book opened to page one, excited to begin. "Come on uncle Arthur, sit down" he says to which Arthur begrudgingly sits down next to Jack.

His eyes meet with Abigail who seems just as uncomfortable as him, though perhaps less so. She was blushing, something that was strange for the former prostitute.

Jack begins to read, the civil war novel, and soon Arthur finds himself listening to Jack. He smiles at the young boy as he sees his eyes begin to droop and his words start to slur. "It's alright Jack. We can continue tomorrow. Go to sleep huh? You had a long and important day" he says with a smile as he gently pushes Jack back onto the bed, and gently pulls the small wolfskin blanket up to the boys chin. "I'll see you tomorrow Jack" he says, getting up as the boy falls asleep mumbling a "goodnight uncle Arthur".

His boots quickly come on, followed by his hat and coat. While putting on his coat he finds two hands on his shoulders helping to put his coat on for him. He turns and comes face to face with her, their lips inadvertently being a mere two inches from each other. Both blush and look away, stepping out for a minute and acclimating to the outside. It had stopped raining, at least momentarily, and the sky was still dark, the wind blowing fiercely as a new set of storm clouds move in.

"Thank you Arthur. For...well for being good to him" she says, her hands going to her skirts again as she looks at the man. "It's nothing" he says in response, not sure how to respond now that Jack wasn't around. It was never really a secret that Arthur had always had a special spot for Abigail Roberts. He never made his feelings known, he and John had still been close in those days and Abigail's past had always been something that convinced him of the wisdom of staying away.

The loss of Eliza and Isaac had also done much to him in ways of emotional aloofness.

But, always seeing Abigail with Jack, how she seemingly made it work and how much she has changed since becoming a mother, that had an effect on Arthur.

"It's not nothing Arthur. It means the world to him and me. I...well I just want you to know that" she says gently and leans in, kissing him on the cheek. "Please...stick around Arthur. So many things are changing and I know some people are already talking about leaving. I...well Jack, well, the both of us, we would very much like it if you stuck around"

The vulnerability in her voice strikes Arthur and before he knows what he's doing he hugs Abigail close. "I'm not going anywhere" he says, mentally cursing himself for doing so. Anyone who had seen could get the wrong impression and he didn't want to compound the problems the gang was already having. He lets her go, nods once more and walks off, heading back to his own tent and Abigail to hers, Arthur not seeing the blush that had broken out across Abigail's face.

The next few weeks pass in the same way that the previous ones had. Schemes, plans and Dutch's constant extortion to trust him without question. Nothing had changed. At least not in how the gang operated and interacted with the world around it. Things had gone well in Valentine. The cattle rustling continued at Micah and John's insistence, the duo strangely becoming quite close. That did not bode well. John was becoming a lot more like Micah Bell, or maybe, maybe that had been who John was all along. Arthur couldn't tell anymore. Not that he had enough time to do so anyway.

Dutch kept him busy, and Hosea as well. Any big scam that wasn't being personally overseen by Dutch was handed off to them. But these big fish were few and far between. Instead Hosea and Arthur were heavily involved in the subtle art of carriage selling. It wasn't lucrative but it was easy. However there was only so many times you could run the same scam without people getting wise. The townsfolk of Valentine were starting to get rather suspicious of the gang of "laid off workers" from the North.

The warnings fell on deaf ears. Everyone was so happy to be out of Colter that they seemed to have forgotten that they were still wanted men and women. They were getting cocky, arrogant. The attitude was all around camp. Arthur, Hosea and Charles seemed to be the only ones unaffected by the enthusiasm that had overtaken Dutch and the others.

Nothing could be done about it though. Whenever Arthur and Dutch talked it was always for Dutch to give Arthur another assignment and send him off like an errand boy. There was an insurmountable chasm opening between them and for the life of him Arthur couldn't figure out why. He hadn't gone against Dutch in Colter and had followed his orders to the letter, assured in his faith in their leader. So why the cold shoulder?

One day Arthur found out that it came from the unlikeliest of places. Evelyn Miller. The author and philosopher that Dutch admired so much. Apparently he had written that the dynamics of friendship and leadership include a constant shakeup and removal of old influences. In other words Dutch was trying to keep things fresh and that meant in with the new and out with the old. Hosea and Arthur? They were the old. The future of the Van Der Linde gang belonged to the young. Mostly Micah, John and Javier. Or perhaps Evelyn Miller? After all, he was influencing the gang in ways he probably would never know of.

The attitude seemed to filter throughout the whole gang. Arthur was treated less like a respected member or the gang and more like an errand boy more in line of usefulness with Uncle or Swanson. He was to be put out to pasture. One night he had even heard Javier joke about cutting the "old men" loose. Dutch had turned to Arthur and asked him what he thought of retirement?

"It's not like you're getting younger Arthur. You or Hosea. Think on it. We give you two enough cash and you set off, buy a homestead and disappear into the wind. You can't tell me you want to keep running from the Pinkertons do you? It's the natural way son. Miller said it best in regards to old age. The elderly wolf will retreat to his lair to live out the rest of his days, no longer running with the pack".

Everyone else had laughed, a fact that secretly irritated Arthur. Dutch would brush it off as a joke of course. Arthur knew better though. He saw it in his eyes. He had been serious. If Arthur had said yes he would've handed him the little bit of cash that was Arthur's and kicked him out of the camp. From that day on, things changed even more. The gang felt less like a family and more of what it really was.

The realization creeped in quickly and many decided to jump ship before they couldn't. Molly was the first to leave. After catching Dutch with Mary-Beth in their bed she had packed her bags and asked Arthur to bring her into town where she could catch a train. Dutch and Mary-Beth didn't even move from the bed. Arthur had given her the ride into town and it was silent the whole way, only an occasional sob breaking from her mouth. When he stopped in front of the Valentine station he grasped her by the waist and lifted her down from the horse. "For, uhh, what it's worth Molly I'm sorry for everything that happened. I...well Dutch…" he says, words failing him. How could he explain away Dutch's behavior as normal when Molly didn't even know the real Dutch? Well he supposed she did now. All the good it did her.

"Arthur you don't need to apologize. You were one of the few who were kind to me" she says, wiping a tear away on her sleeve. She leans in quickly, kissing his cheek. "Thank you for being my friend Arthur. If you ever need me, you may find me in Blackwater" she says and Arthur's eyebrows quirk. "Blackwater? You sure that's a safe idea Molly? They still got all those Pinkertons running the place" he says to which Molly laughs. "I doubt anyone will be looking for Dutch Van Der Linde's former bed warmer" she says spitefully before calming herself once more. "And aside from that, Molly O'Shea isn't going to Blackwater. Barbara O'Connel is" she says making Arthur laugh. "Well it seems you've got it figured out. Best of luck to you Molly" he says, a moment of silence passing between them as the train pulled into the station.

Before he knew it, the Irishwoman was kissing him right on the lips. Arthur doesn't know what to do but before he can come up with his course of action her lips are gone and she is walking towards the train, her baggage in hand. She turns her head over her shoulder and smiles. "We might've been good together Arthur Morgan. If only I wasn't so foolish. But the woman waiting back in camp for you is luckier than she realizes so perhaps that's a better consolation" she says, before stepping onto the train and taking her seat. "What woman?" shouts Arthur as the train begins to pull away. Molly doesn't respond, instead she opts to wave through the window, a coquettish grin on her face, leaving a very confused Arthur Morgan in Valentine.

Miss Grimshaw was the next to leave, the treatment of the harsh, but caring and loving, woman overall having deteriorated. Aside from the horrid teasing of Micah Bell and the general hygiene of most of the men, she now had to contend with Mary-Beth who had taken to trying to usurp her authority and replace her. Apparently enough ill will had been saved up for her amongst Karen and Tilly as well, leading to a general feeling of mutiny amongst the women, a mutiny that Miss Grimshaw's threats and slaps could not fix. She wound up being the second to leave, and the second to ask Arthur to help her do so. He did so. Another tearful farewell and the last words she said to him before boarding her carriage to Rhodes was, "leave while you can Arthur. Things have changed. Dutch has changed. He seems to have forgotten the past and I'm afraid that includes you and Hosea".

Arthur could say nothing. What was there to say? I'm sorry that Dutch threw you aside like all his other women? I'm sorry that the girls you did anything for turned their backs on you? Sometimes it was best to not say anything at all. Nobody really knew what happened to Swanson. One day he was just gone. Not that anyone really cared. After all, what use was an addict who couldn't keep his head on straight? Still Arthur supposed he would miss him. Trelawney too. It was funny. The cockroach actually said goodbye to Arthur. Maybe he wasn't such a bad guy after all.

All in all,the camp was starting to feel a little empty, a fact welcomed by many who considered the missing parasites to have been leeching off of the gang at large. Maybe this was true. Overall, Uncle really didn't contribute to the gang, and neither did Swanson. But wasn't that what the gang was? Parasites? Feeding off of the hard work of society at large? Killing and robbing folk just trying to get by? Dutch had started to read a lot of Marx, some funny fellow who had written about the workers plight. His solution? Something Dutch called a "dictatorship" of the proletariat.

Arthur remembered when their leader started extrapolating on his new views. "Anarchism isn't enough. It really isn't. In the end, the rich will still be able to overpower the rest of us. Anarchism only helps the likes of Cornwall. What we need is for us to be in charge. Who knows about fairness more than us after all? Who's suffered for everything they have more than us? Who? I'll tell you. Nobody. Workers are the same as us, they just bought into the lie. They think if they can play along enough that they'll be as rich as them one day. They won't though. They never will. That's the trick you see. They can't see the mouse trap for what it is".

He got resounding support from the rest of the gang. Arthur didn't know much about socialism or Marxism, whatever it was. It was all just fancy terms really. In the end he said nothing, something that was noticed by Dutch who was now trying to enforce a "party line" as he called it. It was see through though. More often than not the Van Der Linde gang were the oppressors, not the oppressed. Dutch liked to make a huge deal out of the attitudes of agent Milton, be they racial or something else. Milton was a petty tyrant for sure. A bad man. But was Dutch any different? He doubted that Heidi McCort thought so. Especially after Dutch shot her. And in the end Milton only hurt people who were the "bad guys". It wasn't as if Milton walked into a general store and started shooting. A gang hideout? Yes. Dutch though? He'd done both.

For every man like Milton or Cornwall there were three that were different. The Country wouldn't be able to work right if there wasn't a majority of good men and women. Even Lenny had made a good point. As bad as it was for blacks in America at times, at the end of the day things were only getting better because of the good. Arthur smiles to himself as he thinks about Lenny. A Lot of change had occurred for the young man.

"People too often wanna separate and categorize, and it's always their group that's the good guys. Nobody ever admits to being the villian or even worse capable of the same villainy as everyone else. That's why Dutch is turning out like he is. It's not him. Not in his mind. It's everyone else. I just feel bad that I hadn't seen it until now" he said sadly. It was becoming clear that he was regretting the outlaw life. After all, he had been sold a line by Dutch. Promised that he could make a life for himself free of racial consideration. Instead? Micah Bell wound up becoming a leader of the gang and all those dreams went out the window.

Arthur wasn't surprised when Lenny and Charles left. Racial discrimination was one thing, hypocrisy another.

"Hello Arthur. What are you doing looking ever so embroiled in thought?" Comes the teasing voice of Abigail Roberts in his ear, causing the man to involuntarily jump a bit. He turns and can't help the roll of his eyes at the smirk that splits the woman's face. "Well, believe it or not, philosophy. Just thinking about Dutch's new...what did he call it? Socialist dialectic? Now what the hell do those words even mean?" He asks with a laugh himself as Abigail sits down at the base of the tree, pulling her skirts up lightly. Arthur is quick to join her, sliding down the trunk until they sit together, hips touching through the fabric.

"Just another scheme of Dutch's to try and wind up on top. I mean, I think I understand what he's saying. The rich control a lot for sure. But mainly because they have money. And here, well anyone can do that. Sure there's things that make it harder and all. Skin color, gender" she says, casting a critical eye at Arthur, always teasing him with such things. He just rolls his eyes and waits for her to go on. "But that's just it. Obstacles. Not blockades. I was reading, well, Jack was reading to me" she says sheepishly as her illiteracy was the cause of great embarrassment for her, "about this man named Andrew Carnegie. As rich as any king and you know how he started? In a factory. He was just a boy from Scotland who wanted to make money in America. And when he did he gave a lot of it away and built things. So that only shows you two things, one that it's possible if you work hard, and two that it's only fair when everyone can do it. Maybe that's why we are all unhappy? We didn't want to put in the honest work so we became outlaws. Maybe...well maybe America isn't about that" she says quietly.

Arthur just smiles at her and nods. "Abigail Roberts. Can't read nor write yet still one of the smartest women I know. Hell, you're right. Starting to realize it myself. Things might've been different for me if I'd tried and opened up a general store or something. Still don't answer the question though. What makes Dutch so keen on this new way of thinking?" He asks, noticing how Abigail blushed at the compliment he gave her. She brushes a strand of her hair behind her ear and looks away, at least until she can look at him without showing how much his praise affected her.

"Just Dutch looking for the easy way out again I suppose. In the end I think Dutch only wants power. All men like him do. I'm telling you Arthur, I don't know much, but I do know one thing. Anytime someone claims to be a man of the people they are lying. It just matters to what extent. This communism thing? It ain't no different. How are we not gonna have a government and just run ourselves as "workers" when we aint workers? And what are we going to do when everyone is equal? We'd go crazy Arthur. And at the end of the day, what did he call it? Wealth redistribution ain't going to work either. You're gonna need someone to oversee it and lead men with guns to do it. And after it's done we expect the men we trusted to do it will just hand in their guns and join us as equals when they have a taste for finer things? I doubt it".

"So what you're saying is Dutch is fixin' to be king, only less honestly because he wants us to think we're equal partners instead of peasants? Ahh well makes sense. God forbid you ever get a position of power Abigail. Nobody would be able to go against you" he says, a light laugh carried on the breeze from the campfire.

"How is...well how is Jack doing?" He asks quietly, not wanting the little boy in question to hear if he was out and about. Things hadn't gone well for the "Marston Family". John was around less and less and became coarser and coarser to Abigail and Jack. Nobody could really pinpoint it but Arthur assumed it was just something that happened along the way, or maybe it was fated to happen. Abigail goes quiet and he can see how her eyes begin to water. She wipes the budding tears away, not wanting Arthur to see her as weak. "He's stopped asking about his pa. Arthur...you don't know what it's like to have your son look you in the eyes and ask why he isn't loved, especially by someone who is supposed to unconditionally".

Guilt Wells up instantly in Arthur, his thoughts drifting to Isaac. He was too young to ask questions like that to his mother when he died. He figured Eliza knew she might have to answer tough questions someday. But it wasn't that he wasn't loved either. Arthur did love his son but now that he thought about it, maybe not enough. He hadn't done the right thing. Tried to keep living as an outlaw and being a father at the same time. He remembered something he read in the Bible one of the few times he picked it up when he was looking for answers. It said "A man cannot serve two masters for he will come to hate one and love the other". He supposed that's what had happened. Except he served the master he began to hate and abandoned the one he loved. His greed won out over his duty and he'd never forgive himself for it. That's why he told John to not be two things at once. It came from experience. It hurt more now that he knew his advice wasn't taken.

"I know it has to be tough on you Abigail. And on Jack too. I'm sorry about that" he says before he feels Abigail's hand gently interlaced with his. "Don't be sorry Arthur. If anyone doesn't need to be sorry it's you. You've been so good to Jack and me. He is happy. Despite all appearances to the contrary he is. He even told me the other night that he wasn't upset that John didn't want to be his father anymore. I tried naturally, to lie. I told him that it wasn't true that John didn't want to be his father but…..Jack knows better. He's too smart you know?" She says, wiping away a tear that managed to leak out.

Arthur squeezes her hand, reassuring her that he cared. He wasn't good at comfort but he would try his best whenever he had the chance. She turns and smiles at him, reaching out gently and rubbing the side of his face, noticing the stubble. She smiles and gently tilts her head, looking into Arthur's eyes. "But, you know what he said when I asked him why? He said that he wasn't upset because he had his Uncle Arthur" she says teasingly, resting her head on his shoulder as she laughed. Arthur just smiled, happy to be so highly held in the eyes of the little boy he was quickly coming to view as his own.

Every night he would be in their tent, listening to Jack read. He always left as soon as Jack fell asleep though. It was hard for him to admit it but he was quickly developing feelings that surpassed his past ones for Jack's mother. He didn't know it but she was passed that.

Abigail would privately admit to herself that Arthur Morgan was always attractive. When she had first joined the gang, what felt like years ago, she had thought so too. But her profession really served as a barrier. After all she had slept with Dutch, Javier and then John along with a few others. She was always curious when Arthur would come to her tent looking for some of the same as Bill Williamson did every night after his first turn. Arthur never did though. It was strange to her at the time. She thought she was attractive, knew so as a matter of fact. So why wasn't the quiet outlaw clamoring for a chance?

It was about a year after Jack was born that she realized the answer. Because Arthur was a good man. Essentially, as much as any outlaw can be considered good. He didn't chase skirts or drink excessively. He worked and was quiet, kept to himself. Things began to change in Blackwater. Well, before that. John had never been a "good father". He had left for a year after Abigail got pregnant. Refused to acknowledge that Jack was his. He came back, of course and gave it a grand try. But that's all it turned out to be. A try. Arthur though, would always have a kind word for Jack. Always have time for him. It was cute at first. To see her little boy playing with Arthur, play sword fighting with sticks or playing dominoes, a game Tilly had taught the young boy.

But things changed at Horseshoe. Arthur was always around Jack now. It seemed that he stopped being an additive and started being a replacement for John in Jack's life. Every night he would read with the two of them and every morning eat breakfast with them. Whenever John saw he didn't seem to care. To him it was as if someone had decided to take care of his responsibilities and he was free. Hosea had tried to talk with him but in the end even the closest thing to a father John had couldn't get through to him.

It mattered less and less as time went on though. Jack was happy with life for the first time. Things may have been falling apart for the gang but in Abigail's world all was right as rain as long as her son was happy.

But then it happened. One night while he was tucking Jack in and she was helping him put on his coat she realized something. She was in love with him. It left her speechless and when he turned around to look at her she found her face turning bright red and couldn't speak. This was wrong. She couldn't be in love with Arthur. She thought about what would happen if she told him. He might be disgusted and rush off and she couldn't do something if it would jeopardize his closeness to Jack.

"Something wrong?" He'd asked her that night to which she just shook her head and said "no" meeky. She could tell Arthur didn't believe her. But he also didn't press it. "Well if there is you can tell me you know?" He says before making off to his own tent ready to sleep for the night. Abigail just looked out as he left, forlornly watching him go. "Goodnight Arthur" she whispered before closing the flaps of the tent.

The next week was spent in turmoil. Every Time she saw Arthur her stomach would ball up into knots. She could never find the right words to say or even look at him without those feelings welling up like a volcano. It was becoming noticeable. Even Arthur seemed to pick up on something strange. He would always ask her, "What's up with you Abigail? Everything alright?" All the while grabbing her shoulders and rubbing them up and down. It was nerve-wracking to have the gunslinger look into her eyes like that. She'd thought about how best to change things. Maybe by being cold she could get some space.

She'd tried it. Once.

It didn't end well. Arthur had walked up behind her while doing laundry and had begun to speak to her. "Morning Abigail. How are you today?" He'd asked, receiving a simple and gruff "fine" in return. That had taken the man for a loop. That much was clear. "Ahh well, I was just wondering where Jack was. I wanted to teach him how to use the bow. Thought it might be fun. But...well I won't bother you then. I can find him myself" he'd said before walking off, or at least starting too.

She couldn't go through with it. She turned instantly and grabbed his shoulder, stopping him from going while pressing her face into his chest. "I'm sorry Arthur. I'm just...well I don't know I suppose" she says simply while his arms slowly encircle her, pulling her as close as can be into him. "Ahh well, it's alright Abigail. We all have those days. Women especially or so I'm told" he says jokingly, causing the woman in his arms to glare up at him before shaking her head and smiling. "I suppose so. Come on. Let's go find Jack" she says, thinking nothing of taking his hand in her own and beginning to lead them away. It's only after the act is done that she realizes how that could be interpreted by the man.

Begrudgingly she let's go, already missing the contact but happy that no one else had seen. She missed the same look of discomfort on Arthur's face while she leaned into the tent, finding Jack sitting down, reading one of the books Arthur had gotten him. "Hi momma" he says brightly, smiling even wider as Arthur's head peaks in next to hers. "Hi Uncle Arthur" he adds.

"Hey there Jack. I was wondering, and I already have your momma's permission I think, would you like to learn how to use the bow?" He asks, the young boy instantly jumping up, his head bobbing up and down excitedly at the suggestion. "Can we Uncle Arthur? Can momma come to? I want her to see" he asks, leading to Arthur turning to Abigail, awaiting her answer.

Her mind tells her no. To make up an excuse. Lie about chores, or anything to keep her from being near Arthur. But her heart, the most treacherous of organs, whispers for her to go. She listens to her heart.

"Ohh alright I'll come. But don't expect me to try and pull on no drawstring" she chides her son good naturedly as he exits the tent and takes both of their hands, one in each. "Come on, let's go" he says, more than excited to be doing something. They both know it doesn't look right. Holding this little boy between them as they walk through camp, but neither have the heart to pull away. No matter the looks and stares they press on, eventually exiting the camp and finding a nice isolated spot between a clump of trees. "Is here good Uncle Arthur?" Jack asks, already reaching for the bow shoulder across Arthur's back.

"Here's good Jack" he says in response, laughing at the boys excitement while he unslings the bow and draws an arrow. "Alright Jack. Come here" he says as he brings Jack into his chest and positions the boys hands on the bow and helps him draw the string. Abigail watches in fascination, trying to suppress those feelings that well up inside of her whenever she sees the two of them so close together.

"Focus on the target, that tree over there, and breath in. Release the string on an exhale. Don't worry if you miss. I'm not good at this much either" he says with a chuckle, letting Jack acclimate to the feel of the bow. A few seconds pass before the sound of the string breaking the air reaches her ears, the arrow slicing through the air before thudding into the tree trunk. "I did it Uncle Arthur, I did it!" Jack shouts excitedly, jumping up and down. "That you did Jackie boy. That you did" he says in appreciation, ruffling Jack's hair.

"Now momma! You try momma! Uncle Arthur can teach you too" the little boy says, rushing over and grabbing his mother's hand, pulling her over to his Uncle Arthur. The two adults are either blushing or clearing their throat, the thought of being that close obviously posing a problem. "Ohh Jack, no, momma won't be any good at this" Abigail protests meekly, only for Jack to respond with, "you"ll never know until you try. Please momma?" He asks with a pout.

"Ohh alright" she says, the blush coloring her face as she moves over to Arthur and picks up the bow. "Uhh okay, how do I aim?" She asks as Arthur comes up behind her, his proximity to her sending a shiver up her spine. "Well uhh you first gotta move your hands a bit" he says, placing his over hers and shifting them about the shaft of the bow. This was having a profound effect on the gunslinger as well. 'Why the hell does she have to be someone else's woman?' he asked himself, unintentionally pulling her into his chest from behind. "So uhh, you just bring it up, pull the drawstring back and look to the left of the bow to see where you wanna hit. Let go on the exhale like I told Jack" he adds, letting the moments pass.

"Okay" she says simply, waiting for her heartbeat to calm down enough to actually let it go. When it finally does the arrow goes forward, slicing through the air just as Jack's had done, and despite her belief to the contrary, hitting the tree trunk right next to Jack's. The excitement wells up in her and she begins to jump like Jack did. "Ohh my word I did it. Arthur" she says turning in his arms and laughing, the bow dropping to the ground forgotten as she kisses the man's cheek. "That you did Abigail. That you did. Your momma is a regular squaw Jack" he teases as the young boy comes up, hugging his two favorite adults by the legs, wanting to be in on the celebration as well. "See, I told you momma. You just need to try" he says before looking back up the hill to the camp.

"Momma, I have to go feed Cain. I don't want him to forget" he says, referencing the dog that had attached himself to the young boy on one of his excursions to Valentine. "Ohh alright now. Go feed Cain sweetie. Arthur and I will clean up here".

The young boy smiles, rushing up to the camp, eager to see his canine friend, leaving the two alone in the clearing. The words left unsaid boil beneath her skin. She needed to tell him. If only to be honest. She needed to tell him how she felt and how much she needed him. But there was that fear. What would happen if he didn't feel the same way? What would happen between him and Jack? How could she jeopardize that because of how she felt?

Arthur walks over, smirking as he pulls the arrows out of the tree. "Heh, well looks like that ole' Roberts bloodline still has some secrets after all. You and Jack are naturals. A lot better than me on my first try" he says smiling.

Abigail can't help but smile to herself. It was foolish to think anything would change between Arthur and Jack. He loved that boy. Her? Maybe not. But Jack? Most certainly. So her only real fear was losing Arthur as her friend. But what if….what if they could be so much more? She had to risk it. She couldn't hold it in anymore. It would be unfair to Arthur to keep this secret.

"Arthur, can we talk?" She asks simply, moving up and placing a hand on his back. The leather jacket is thinner than usual, allowing the man to feel her touch more than usual. He shivered, trying to chalk it up to the nip in the air. "Uhh, well of course Abigail. What's on your mind?" He asks, turning around, arrows still in his hand.

"Well it's like...well, have you ever….ohh why is this so damned difficult" she asks, mostly to herself before she begins to pace in front of him, her skirts brushing across the damp foliage. Fall was coming, but as he looked at the distressed woman the changing of the season was the last thing on his mind. "What's difficult?" He asks, completely clueless as to what's going on. He lowers the arrows back into the quiver and stops Abigail from pacing by putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her towards him. "Now, I may not be a scientist but I doubt pacing helps the mind or tongue, especially when you're trying to get something out, so how about you just….." the smile that had been present on his face at the beginning of his sentence was gone, but that was more because his lips were now covered.

By another pair of lips. Belonging to one Abigail Roberts. She had taken the opportunity to say what she needed to say. The beauty of it was that she didn't need to utter a single word. Instead, she just stepped into his chest and wrapped her arms around him. Her eyes were closed, squinting, almost as if she was afraid of opening them. Arthur's eyes close themselves, and his hands slowly move to her waist. A part of his mind urges him to push her off. That having another man's woman with him like this wasn't good. Another part of his mind, the reckless one, whispered that it didn't give a good damn who's woman Abigail was. That she was his now and he could kiss her and put his hands on her waist if he wanted.

Arthur Morgan was a reckless man, so needless to say he listened to the reckless part of his mind.

Eventually Abigail releases his lips and gasps, sucking in air as quickly as possible before peppering his face with light kisses, her hands moving to his chest to grasp at the hem of his jacket, as if she was afraid he'd disappear. "I've never been good with words" she whispers against his lips, having moved in closer to him. "Well, when you can tell me what you're thinking like that without words I think you're pretty damn good at something" he says, shock and mirth mixed on his face.

"I love you" she says, quietly, almost a whisper, like she was still afraid to say it. Even after such a passionate kiss she was afraid to put the words out, like that they had physical power. In a way they did. Words prompted action. Now? She was completely lost in the wake of the the impact her words had had. It was all up to how Arthur responded. He's silent for a moment, his hands still on her waist. A silent war is waging inside of him. He loves her. Knows it in her heart. Loves her and her son. But could he tell her? Would it be fair? Knowing the kind of man he was, what he'd done and where they were, could he dare return the truth to her?

"I love you too Abigail" he says, the words coming out before he is fully committed to this course of action. To the day Arthur Morgan died he couldn't tell you what made him tell the truth, especially when lying came so natural to him in this profession.

A smile splits Abigail's face and years slowly drip down her cheek. "Aww hell, I didn't mean to make you cry Abigail, I'm sor…" he begins but is cut off. "I'm not crying because I'm sad you idiot. I'm crying because I'm happy. It's just...I was afraid. Maybe, maybe you wouldn't feel the same. And that, you'd be mad at us and I didn't want Jack to get hurt" she starts, the words spilling out of her almost uncontrolled. He hushes her with his lips, his hands going about her waist and holding her in place as he continues. "Ain't none of that true so out it out of your mind" be says, and the both of them stay still for a moment, both enjoying the feeling of being held or holding someone. Someone that actually cared for them.

"What are we going to do Arthur?"

Her voice is a whisper. It's a fearful one, one that gives away all her trepidation and worry in an instant. For once, he doesn't have a quick answer. "I don't know Abby. I..I need time to think on it" he says but notices her quirked eyebrow. "Abby?" She asks, a smile teasing at the corners of her lips. "Ahh well, it just came out. Didn't mean to butcher your name just easier than saying Abigail all the time". Her head lays on his chest and she idly rubs the soft leather. "I like it. But only when it's you. Anyone else and I'll feed them their teeth". He rubbed her back, not doubting for a second that she would. "Heh, alright then Abby". He kisses her again and his hands move to either side of her face.

"I have an idea. Or the workings of some idea. You, me, Jack and Hosea. We can go out on our own. Find a nice place. Go legitimate. And we'll go to the one place they won't expect. Blackwater. We already got friends there" he says to which she begins to ask "who?"

"Apparently, one Barbara O'Connel and her husband Seamus Genney" he says. The names mean nothing to Abigail but something in her tells her to just trust Arthur. He had a good head on his shoulders. A handsome one too. She shakes these thoughts away. Not the time. Not the place. She still needed to worry about getting Jack out of this place. There would be time later to show him just how serious she was. For now? Survive.

"Okay Arthur. I'll follow you" she says simply, and he leans down to rub the side of her cheek. "Good girl. Go get Jack and pack up your necessities. I'll go talk to Dutch" he says and gives her one last lingering kiss before turning to walk off. "Bring your stuff to Domitia. I'll load her up or ask Williamson for help" he says, remembering that the big man would always do what he was asked, especially if it was Abigail doing the asking. What the hell was he doing? He asked himself this multiple times over the last few minutes. But, he couldn't tell you exactly what it was. Maybe...maybe he was doing the best thing. He loved the woman. Loved the boy. John wasn't taking care of them, so why shouldn't he step in? It made sense. All the sense in the world.

He finally makes it to Dutch's tent, Mary-Beth idly sitting on Molly's old seat, reading, and doing nothing much else as had become usual. "Hey Mary-Beth. Where's Dutch?" he asks, being polite. He had nothing against the girl. She smiles and looks up at him. "Hiya Arthur" she says, reminding him of just how young she was. "Dutch is out by the fire. With Hosea, John and Micah. Everything okay?" She asks, a tone of worry in her voice. "Ohh, everything is fine Mary-Beth. Don't you worry" he says before tipping his hat and walking towards the fire. For once, he was telling the truth. Everything was fine. More than fine.

He sees Dutch's back, Hosea's too, but Micah and John are facing him, and seem to watch his approach with a good measure of curiosity. "Dutch. Mind if I talk with you a minute?" He asks, and the older man turns around, nodding with a smile on his face. "Sure Arthur. Ain't nothing going on at the moment" he says, motioning for Hosea to scoot over and give him room, something the older man did eagerly. "Thanks" he says, sitting down. "Listen Dutch. I wanna be right to it. I've been thinking about what you said and I wanna leave. Now, I got my own money, so I don't need none of the gang's, but the catch is Abigail and Jack wanna leave too" he says, putting the whole truth right out on the table for all to hear. "Hosea too, if he is so inclined," he says, nodding towards the other man who seems to already be on board.

"Leaving with another man's woman? That's bad form Arthur" says Dutch, a grim expression on his face, but mirth in his eyes. He was cutting some chaffe and increasing the gang's holdings at the same time. John however, looked furious. "What makes you think you can just up and go with my family?" He asks, standing as his hand goes to his pistol. Arthur is quicker and his pistol is already drawn. John slowly settles into his seat, his hands going out to either side, palms out. "Now let's get something straight. That ain't your family. It's mine. You took off on 'em once and you left 'em to rot since you've been back. If it were up to me, you'd be dead. But..it ain't. I just wanna leave. And so do they".

His eyes glowed, mostly due to the fire, but the rage inside was unmistakable. He wanted to kill John Marston. Wanted to fill his head full of bullets and throw his corpse off a cliff. He also wanted to thank him. After all, Arthur had struck gold. A second chance at love and family. And it was all thanks to John Marston's mismanagement.

"Now, let's calm it down here fellas. There ain't no need for this. After all, we're talking about business aren't we? And John, you said it yourself. You wanna be free of the constrictions of family life. Aren't you a little sweet on Karen anyways? Think of it as me and Arthur taking a job you don't want. Like we always do" comes Hosea's soft and conciliatory voice. Arthur knew he wanted to kill the bastard too but Hosea was smart enough to out the boy and Abigail first. If buttering John up got them away, he'd do it.

John is quiet for a moment before Micah laughs and says aloud. "So what? The cowpoke wants your seconds and castoffs. Let him have it partner. More trouble than she's worth ain't she? It's not like you like the brat anyways" he says which finally seems to make up Marston's mind. Micah Bell seemed to do a lot of John Marston's thinking for him nowadays. "Heh, well Arthur, you wanna be such a good man you go right ahead. It's your headache now" John says, dropping his hands completely and looking back into the fire, something in his eyes tell a different story.

'He has to know this is wrong' Arthur's mind tells him. 'Has to'. He can't bring himself to care too much for his former friend's mental wellbeing. In fact, he hoped that this one day drove him insane. That was far between from then and now though.

"So you're going too Hosea?" Dutch asks, remembering Hosea's reference to himself in the previous statement. "I am Dutch. I'm tired. I don't wanna die in a gunfight. Not anymore. Appealed to me when I was younger but not so much anymore. And Arthur? Well, it seems like he's got some sort of plan" he says, wrapping an arm around his surrogate son's shoulder. "Well, I'll be sorry to see you all go" Dutch says, lying, his mind only on the increased share for him of the gang's loot. "How about this. Since it's all of you going, take a wagon. Saddle up Domitia and some other horse and make it easier. When do you think you'll be leaving?" He asks.

"Soon as possible" Arthur says, the thought of shooting John still running through his mind. "Well, take your time" he says, while thinking 'just not too much'. Dutch was getting ready to make one final move. Hit the Valentine bank, come back to camp and head for the hills. Further west. To the coast and then beyond. It would be regrettable to lose their best gunman, but Arthur wasn't on board. He wasn't a party member. He couldn't be trusted.

"Well, I'll be off to pack up. Don't have much so it won't be long" Arthur says, standing up and moving off of the log before being followed by Hosea.

Dutch turns away, waving, the leaving group exiting his life and his mind. John looks sullen while Micah just smiles. With Morgan out of the way, he'd be able to exercise a much greater level of control over the gang.

Abigail is waiting by his tent, already having packed up most of his things for him. She smiles and turns, a lock of her hair plastered to her forehead by sweat. She wipes it away quickly enough, moving the dark lock back into place on her head. "Arthur, I've already gotten most of your stuff packed. Ohh, hi Hosea. Everything alright?" She asks, the nerves seeping into her voice once more. Arthur smiles and nods, turning and whistling to Uncle. "Uncle, get me a carriage ready" he says, rousing the sleeping man who gets up and almost walks right into a tent pole before course correcting.

Arthur continues to walk towards Abigail and takes her into his arms, twirls her about and places her back on the ground. "Arthur Morgan what has gotten into you" she asks, nervous laughter at how affectionate and open he was being. She thought they were hiding their newfound feelings for each other, at least until they were out of the camp. She turns towards the fire, seeing John glaring at the two. He makes ready to move but is stopped by Micah and Dutch, being forced by them to stay. Without further waiting she smiles, turns and kisses Arthur right on the lips, in full view of everyone in the camp. John does nothing, continuing to stew.

"Loving you" he says when their lips part, in response to her question. Her heart begins to beat at a rapid pace and she can't fight the blush that comes to her face. She gently slaps his chest. "You're a charming snake" she says, all teasing and no venom. "Only for you darlin. Only for you" he says before Jack runs up, his two bags in his hands. "I'm all ready momma. And uncle Arthur" he adds, confused a bit at how close his mother and the man were. They both gently step back, realizing that they need to explain to Jack that things had...changed for the two of them. Things were much more confusing as a child.

"Heya Jack. You ready to go?" Arthur asks, moving to his knees and ruffling the boys hair. "Yeah uncle Arthur" he says, still looking between his mother and "uncle" with an air of suspicion. Abigail just continues to blush and moves to her knees beside the man, her arms circling the little boy's shoulders. "Uncle has the wagon all ready for us Jack. We shouldn't keep him waiting" she says, picking up her own luggage and Arthur his. They didn't have much but to start a new life? It was enough.

They walk towards the wagon, Abigail holding Jack's hand as they go. Hosea is already waiting, sitting at the carriage's driver seat. He waves, as if ushering them on, wanting to be shot of the place. Arthur loads his luggage first before reaching back and taking Abigail's and then Jack's. He assists her and then picks up Jack by the waist. He climbs aboard and notices how few people turned out to wave goodbye. Then again, more people had left than he noticed. It didn't matter. This was the past. Now was the future.

"So. Where we heading?" Hosea asked, once they cleared the hidden entrance to Horseshoe overlook. Arthur is quiet for a moment, not quite sure himself. "Somewhere near BlackWater. We have ...acquaintances there who say it is clear of Pinkertons. They've moved on apparently" he says, before hearing shuffling. "Well, then I have an idea," says Abigail. She pulls out a flier, a pamphlet really, and smiles. "Jack was telling me about this. Well, he read it to me. A ranch for sale. It's called Beecher's Hope" she says, handing the paper to Arthur. He reads it and nods, the land and price seeming good. "Well, it says it would need some work, but the price...it's fair, but way out of our range" he says before Hosea coughs, a smile on his face. "I wouldn't be too sure about that," he says, motioning to the back. "Dutch ain't the only one who has money stashed. And unlike Dutch, I've been doing it for years and have never lost my stash once. How much is it?" He asks, taking the flier with one hand while maintaining his grip on the reins with the other. "It's a pretty penny, but I have double that in that box back there" he says, pointing out the black lockbox that Arthur had seen him with for years but never questioned what was in it.

Abigail can't help the smile that splits her face as she grabs Jack and hugs him, her other hand reaching out for Arthur's. "You sure Hosea?" He asks, squeezing his woman's hand as he turns to look at the man. "Yup. We'll need new names. How about...the Milton's?" He asks to which Arthur nods. "It don't make no difference to me" he says, turning back and smiling at his family. "Uncle Arthur? Are we going to be okay?" Jack asks to which Arthur nods and ruffles his hair. "Better than okay. Kings" he says before looking at Abigail. "And queens". He turns back to Jack. "And enough of this Uncle Arthur business. You can just call me Arthur" he says which causes Jack to look curious.

"Can I call you pa instead?" He asks, the silence in the wagon, aside from the hooves of the horses, descending like a curtain. Abigail looks like a fish for a minute but looks worriedly at Arthur. She sees him slowly smile and nod. "Of course Jack. Son".

_**8 YEARS LATER**_

"Oh Arthur, yes, right there!" She moans, trying to keep quiet as she straddles her husband in bed. Both are

Naked, the slight candlelight their only illumination of each other as Arthur stares at his wife and moans, thrusting his hips as he is inside her. Life was going wonderfully for Mr. Arthur Milton and his wife Abby Milton. Not to mention the wonders that easier living and pregnancy had worked on Abigail.

He gently caresses her breasts as she comes up and down upon him, the bed sheet falling lower and lower off of the bed as they make love. "You're an angel Mrs. Milton" he teases, leaning up to suckle her breast. Her hand goes to the back of his head, running her fingers through the graying but still vibrant brown hair. "And you..ahh...are entirely too charming Mr. Milton" she says, causing him to cease his ministrations for a moment and smile up at her.

Beecher's Hope had become their own personal heaven. Sure, it was just a shack when they got there but with a little bit of elbow grease and hardwork? It had become a full fledged and successful ranch. That is...until they struck oil. Then? It became the center of an empire. The Milton Oil and Petroleum empire. Worth millions of dollars. Of course, Hosea and Arthur left the management to smarter and more trustworthy people, not knowing anything about oil themselves. Instead, they focused on other pursuits. Hosea's was his Bible and Arthur? Well, Arthur's pursuits ran align with Abigail's and wound up with them having four more children. Abigail was still amazed that after all this time he still found her attractive enough to make love too.

These thoughts are swept from her head as her orgasm wracks her body, Arthur also experiencing the same thing. She thrusts herself down once more, feeling herself explode as Arthur's warmth fills her to her core. She rides the waves of ecstasy downwards, falling flat against his bare chest and panting repeatedly. "Well, Mr. Milton. It appears I am not quite so old as to not provide an enjoyable time" she says teasingly. She feels a hand swat at her rear end and she can't help but giggle. "Nope Mrs. Milton. I'm not quite done with you yet. Ask me in another twenty years" he says teasingly, nuzzling into her neck, kissing and sucking at her pulse point. She moans and coos, feeling herself quite ready for round two before a knock on the door interrupts them.

"Mommy, Daddy? Maria and I are scared. Can we come in?" Comes the voice of four year old Diana through the door. Abigail let's out an "eep" of fear, afraid that the two would walk into their room and see their mother and father "wrestling". It had happened with their older son and daughter and that's the excuse they used then. She falls to the floor, hurting her leg in the process. "One second sweetie" she calls, muffling the pain as Arthur also jumps into action, slipping into a pair of pajama pants and a silk pajama shirt the girls had gotten him for last Christmas. Abigail slips into her nightgown, throwing it over her head and smoothing it out by her thighs. Just in time too as Maria opens the door.

Maria and Diana were the spitting image of Arthur, if Arthur had been a cute little girl with wide forever fearful eyes. Diana was sniffling and Arthur was instantly on her, taking her into his arms before adding a beginning to cry Maria into his arms. "What's wrong?" He asks, calming the girls down. "We had a nightmare," she says, the tears staining her voice. "A nightmare? That's no good" he says,the four year old twins molding themselves into his protective arms as best he could Abigail sits on the bed, knowing that the whole gaggle of their children would be in soon and she wasn't disappointed. Bessie and James, the older twins, enter, rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

"What's going on?" Bessie asks, already moving into her mother's lap to fall asleep again. James follows soon enough. It was clear that factionalism, good natured of course, happened in the house. The younger twins were their daddy's girls through and through while Bessie and James stuck to their momma like glue. Jack, their eldest, acted as if he was too mature to play such games as having favorites and tried to not be around either parent too much at all but he was really firmly in Arthur's camp. He wanted to be like his adopted father in the worst way. It was rather cute to watch him emulate Arthur's slow way of talking and walking.

"Can we sleep with you tonight? Please papa? Momma?" Comes Diana's voice and before she can say anything Arthur nods. "Alright but, we can't keep on like this forever alright? This is the last time" he says, the two girls eagerly nodding. Abigail just smiled. He'd said the same thing the last eight times. The girls knew it to. Their father would never turn them away.

She turns to see a shadow in the door and Jack standing their, hands on hips as he surveyed the room. "Everything okay?" He asks. James and Bessie were already asleep in each one of Abigail's arms and Diana and Maria were snuggled under the blankets next to Arthur, one on either side.

"Everything's fine Jack. Why don't you bring in the chair and set it up next to the bed. Your brother and sisters got a little scared by the thunder outside and we could use some protection" she says, watching her eldest sigh, pretending once more to be too mature before coming back in with a padded chair, a blanket and a pillow. He set it up on his mother's side and gingerly reaches out to rub along Bessie's forehead. "Goodnight momma. Goodnight pa" he says quietly, settling in. "Goodnight son. Love you" Arthur says, already through closed eyes, sounding a million miles away.n

Abigail was still awake, smiling to herself as she rubbed the foreheads of her babies. "We made it Arthur Morgan" she whispers, kissing her husband's cheek, fully expecting him to be asleep. A moment of silence passes until she hears "That we did Abigail Morgan. That we did".


End file.
